Say Something
by Attila the Hahn
Summary: <html><head></head>I wanted to get this in before the new episode. I'm cutting it close. Juice plays Chibs a visit.</html>


Chibs sighed deeply as he stripped out of this clothing. He unholstered his gun and placed it on the bathroom counter before pulling his shirt off and kicking his pants away. He pulled back the shower curtain and turned the water as hot as he could stand it.

The club was in the middle of a war, and he was unsure how it was going to turn out for them. Jax was hell bent on on revenge, and he was not going to stop until that revenge was sated, or he was dead. It would likely be the latter, as Chibs was not certain Jax's revenge was actually satiable.

**Say Something**

Chibs took a deep breath and stepped under the scalding spray. In all likelihood, he would not make it out alive. The thought of never seeing Fiona or his Kerrianne again hurt, but it had been a long time since he had been a part of their lives. It would probably not hit them nearly as hard as it would have had they been closer.

The shit with the Chinese was not going to stop, and there were going to be more casualties than at any point in the club's history. After giving his life to the IRA and then to the club, Chibs was almost ready for the end. Too many brothers, too many innocents.

Chibs was not generally prone to self-flagellation and was not about to start. He had enough regrets to know that agonizing over them would lead to dark places he had no time to dwell in. He quickly washed up and got out. Showers had a tendency to make him think. There was something about hot water and confined space that made him feel vulnerable.

The lack of clean towels in the bathroom came as no surprise to Chibs, so he used his hand towel to wipe his face and hands enough to light a cigarette. He inhaled deeply and his breath froze in his chest. His gun was gone.

Chibs blew out the smoke and peeked around the corner and down the hall. He side stepped into his bedroom to grab his shotgun from the closet and froze at the sight of Juice sitting on his bed. The shotgun was not in the top of the fully open closet. "Juice," he breathed.

"Hi, Chibs." Juice tossed him a towel and quirked a sad grin. "Figured you didn't grab a towel before you went in."

"Sick bastard, waiting until I'm in front of yeh with my bits out." He wrapped the towel around his waist and leaned against the door jam. His heart was thumping wildly; the boy had more gall than he thought.

Juice looked haggard and profoundly sad. The hope on his face from the meet in the cafe was completely gone, though that had disappeared before he even left Chibs's presence that day. He had the handgun from the bathroom gripped in his hand and one likely in his waistband. "Figured you would change your locks, Chibbie."

"Didn't think yeh were stupid enough to show up in my bedroom, boy."

Juice's eyes dropped to the floor for an instant before he used the gun to wave toward a chair by the window. "Take a seat, man."

Chibs slowly walked toward the chair, wondering if he could get to the handgun under the mattress before Juice could get a shot off.

"I cleared the room before you ever got home. You have never been particularly creative with your hiding spots, Chibbie."

"Stop calling me that, boy," Chibs growled. "This is not some pleasant talk after a few drinks. Yeh're a rat and yeh're gonnae die when the club gets ahold of you."

The look on Juice's face was resigned and sad. "I know, man." He lit a cigarette, keeping a close eye on Chibs, and passed it over. He rolled his eyes when Chibs held up his own cigarette, which had already fizzed out. He placed it back between his own lips and inhaled deeply. "I'm going to die. Probably sooner rather than later."

Chibs didn't answer the boy. He was daft, coming there. He should have taken off and hidden as far from SAMCRO as physically possible. "You betrayed the club, Juice."

"You made it "right" with you when you beat the shit out of me. This isn't about the club anymore, and you know it. I didn't-" Juice rolled the cigarette between his thumb and pointer finger. "I didn't come here to argue about the lead in to my execution."

"Why are you here, Juice?"

Juice scratched the side of his head with the .45 and blinked tears from his eyes. "I wanted to explain myself, fully, without being interrupted or killed mid-explanation." The tears started falling no matter his attempts to stave them off. "I wasn't made for this life. I know it now." He laughed ironically. "You've probably seen me cry more times since I've been in the club than you've seen your daughter cry in her whole life."

Against his will, Chibs's lips twitched. "Aye."

Juice shook his head and laughed. "I grew up with an old man that enjoyed smacking me around every chance he got and a mother who had a tendency to baby me." The fact that it was to make up for his father's abuse was left unsaid. He shrugged and used his shoulder to wipe the steady falling tears. "Tears just fall whenever something happens."

"You're too soft, Juicy," Chibs said softly. "Your vulnerability is what's going to kill you."

Juice bobbed his head in acknowledgement and used his hand to wipe his face. "It's what signed my death warrant. After Miles-" He briefly looked like he was going to throw up. "After Miles, I never thought I would make it. I prepared myself and I thought about it, and I was ready to die. I put that chain around my neck and dropped from that branch-"

"Coward," Chibs spat, suddenly angry. He leaped at Juice and came face to face with the gun in Juice's hand, steady as could possibly be. He dropped back into the chair and scrubbed at his face. "You're a rat and a coward. You shot an innocent man because he was loyal to his club and trying to do his part to bring you in! Then you ratted." His roar faded to a soft rebuke and he put his head in his hands. "And then you ratted again."

Juice had been the closest thing to a best friend Chibs had ever had. He slept on Chibs's couch more often than his own bed. His OCD would not allow him to stay in a filthy house so he washed the dishes and scrubbed the kitchen and closed the cabinets that Chibs regularly left open. That happy little idiot with the wide innocent eyes was gone. He had been reduced to a sad man with a death warrant.

"I was protecting the club. Rico-"

"You should have came to me!" Chibs roared. He was getting sick of repeating himself. His heart genuinely hurt for the boy, but there was no room in his life for anymore regrets. The ghosts around him swelled when he was alone, and Juice would be one more that would haunt him. He didn't need it happening before the kid was even dead.

Silence engulfed the room, the loud hum of the old refrigerator the only noise. The heat and air were only used on the hottest days and coldest nights. "I wanted to. If anyone could have helped me, it was you." Juice's chest felt tight at what he was about to admit. "I have cried every time I have ever killed an animal. Killing a human destroyed me. I have killed people. People who are mothers, sisters, fathers, sons. I wasn't made for this life, but this life saved me. I was on the brink of suicide when I prospected. The drugs and the girls and the brotherhood were there when I needed them. I can't be alone. My thoughts get jumbled and-Chibbie, you saved me so many times! You let me sleep on your couch and clean when I needed to-"

A barking laugh interrupted him and Chibs actually seemed amused. "You daft little boy." He let his head fall back against the wall and scratched his bare chest. "Any of yer brothers would have done that for you. As a Son, you were part of a brotherhood! But you didn't trust us enough to help you out of the hole. You dug yer own grave. Yeh should have swallowed the bullet before ever stepping foot in that garage. Would have saved the MC more heartache."

Juice's heart skipped a beat and he knew. He knew his death was going to hurt Chibs. Chibs, who drank way too much and did not get hangovers except when he drank tequila. Who left drawers and cabinets open for someone else, usually Juice, to shut. The foul-mouthed Scot who gave Juice the tactile affection that he always needed. "I love you, Chibbie." It was really the last thing that needed to be said.

Lips peeled back in a wordless snarl, Chibs watched carefully as Juice stood and walked toward him. He sat perfectly still as the other man leaned down and kissed him softly on the cheek. "I love you, Juicy boy, but you're a dead man."

The hot breath whispered across his face, and Juice felt his heart break once more. "I know, brother." He quirked a small grin and laid the gun in Chibs's hand, kneeling in front of the him. "I never thought I would know love like what I had with you. I've never had anyone to care about my well-being…not since my mom died when I was a kid. I wasn't made for this life, but I have nowhere else to go. I'm a dead man either way."

He placed his hands on his knees and bowed his head, ready to take the bullet.

_Say something, I'm giving up on you_  
><em>I'll be the one, if you want me to<em>  
><em>Anywhere I would've followed you<em>  
><em>Say something, I'm giving up on you<em>

**_End_**


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